


Hamilton Prompts: I'm taking requests

by Oregano_Cactus



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, I hate myself, M/M, ship central, sorry this is self-indulgent trash, wow im a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-10-29 04:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10846587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oregano_Cactus/pseuds/Oregano_Cactus
Summary: random prompts for pairings1) Alex/Eliza2) Alex/JohnI update once in a blue moon but I haven't abandoned it yet i swear





	1. Alex/Eliza: Snow prompt

**Author's Note:**

> hi im tiffany and this is like. my first work im a mess

Alexander Hamilton was not a smart man. His friends would argue otherwise, but he was most definitely not a smart man. Sure, he had a perfect GPA and was enrolled in more classes than he could count on his hands, but he often found himself lacking in certain other areas...such as common sense. 

He had been waiting in the back of class, lingering until Professor Washington was ready to speak to him. (It was about going over the page limit on his essay. Again.) Unfortunately, Washington had left without a second thought, and he had stayed in the classroom, an unanswered question left on his lips. John had already left for lunch, with a quick “Come after you’re done!” and a smile, so there was nobody left in the room. 

Alex glanced around, looking for his bag, when he noticed something else on the floor. It was his math textbook, which he did need next period. On second thought, however, he realized that his was already in his backpack. So, who’s was it? With a shrug, he slung it into his backpack. The least he could do was return it to its owner, he thought. 

_____________________________________________________________________  
Unfortunately, finding the owner of the textbook was not as easy as he thought. He knew it had to be in his PoliSci class, but there were almost 40 students in there. He ruled out several names right off the bat, knowing that they would not have been allowed into the clearly more advanced class that this textbook was for. Alex decided to ask around a bit, for whoever the book owner might be. His friend, Hercules, managed to hack into the school files for a bit to check who the number was, in exchange for 8 bags of doritos. 

This did not prove to be of much help. All they could manage to glean from the files was that whoever the book belonged to was a Schuyler. This didn’t narrow it down much, for Schuyler had 3 daughters- all in high school. He had seen them in passing- Angelica, with her pink shirt and frankly, terrifying eyes- Eliza, with a soft blue blouse and a gorgeous smile- and Margarita, sunshiny yellow and ready to fight. They were all smart enough to own this book, so Alex had no clue which one it could be. He decided to use process of elimination. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

Alex had fooled himself. It was that bad. He had approached Angelica first, asking if she had left her math textbook anywhere. Her eyes crackled, and she responded with a tert “No. Why do you ask?” His response was that he knew it had to belong to one of the Schuylers, since he had hacked into the system. It just went downhill from there, with Angelica interrogating him about what else he might have seen in those files and him retorting as fast as he could. The meeting did not end well, to say the least. They both left the mental duel exhausted. The one good thing to come out of this was that he knew it couldn’t be Angelica. 

Next, he decided to try Margarita. When he walked towards her calling out “Margarita!”, she didn’t turn around for another minute. Alex eventually had to walk up to her and tap her on the shoulder for a response, which ended up being a smile. “Margarita, why didn’t you answer me? I called out for you about 5 times,” he said. 

“Number one: Call me Peggy. I don’t know what my parents were thinking when they named me after an alcoholic drink,” she laughed. Alexander nodded- that made sense. “Number two: What did you need?” He explained his situation, complete with all of the excruciating details. “Oh yeah, don’t mind Angie. She can be kinda scary, but she’s a good person overall. That’s also not my book, strange man who I don’t know. I’m a grade lower than Lizzie and Angie, so I guess you’ve figured out which one it is?” With a quick “thank you” and a promise to call later (Peggy was pretty cool, definitely friendship material), Alex was off to find Elizabeth- the third and final Schuyler sister. He knew that she had to have the same class, so he decided to wait outside until she showed up. 

Of course, because he was Alexander Hamilton, actual Human Disaster, he was late. It wasn’t his fault, he had just gotten caught up in talking to his teacher and ended up being 10 minutes late. Plus, it was snowing, and Alex never went anywhere less than 70 degrees without at least 3 layers of clothing. (Damn him and his carribean ass.) Hoping to still catch her, he sprinted to the classroom (why was he exercising, why was he even making so much of an effort) just in time to see a girl with long, shiny black hair exit. “Hey!” he called.

“Oh, hi! Did you need anything?” she said, and goddamn if he wasn’t smitten. Her voice was chiming, and her hair looked like it would be nice to braid, and the smile- he would die for that smile. Was he infatuated? Absolutely. She looked so gorgeous silhouetted against the snow that he couldn’t help gawking at her, all semblance of rational thought gone from his mind. “Um, I asked if you needed anything?” Oh, shit. Alex might have just crossed the border from Just Staring to full-on Creepy Stalker. 

“Hi, I was just wondering if you left your textbook in PoliSci? Y’know, room 170? Professor Washington? Sorry, I’m probably wrong, but I’ve already asked your sisters and it can’t be them so it has to be you, since your brothers are all either in college or middle school, and-” Eliza made a noise and he cut himself off, aware that he would probably scare her away with the massive amounts of word vomit he had just subjected her to. “Um, sorry. Anyways, did you happen to leave your textbook here?”

Thank god, she responded. “Yeah, actually. Do you have it?” Alex handed it over to her. This was his last chance to do something about his forming crush on this girl. 

“Maybe I can give you something else as well?” he asked. She blushed. Ohshitohshitohshit “Sorry! I didn’t mean it like that um I was just wondering if you might be interested in going out to a coffee shop with me at one point? Unless you don’t like coffee in which case that’s totally fine and we can go to the aquarium or something or maybe-” He got cut off by a laugh again. Damn, this was becoming a trend. 

“I’d love to, -” Here she cut herself off with a questioning tone, and Alex realized he hadn’t even introduced himself. 

“Sorry. I’m Alex. Alexander Hamilton. You may know me as the kid who punched the bursar on the first day of freshman orientation?” If this didn’t work, he was going to eat his own hat. He didn’t even have a hat, but the details weren’t important here. 

She seemed to recognize that, at least. “Oh! I remember you! I hate the bursar too, he’s destroyed my finances at least three times on the ground that ‘Rent prices were hiking up’.”

At least they were sure to have one thing in common. “Um, so how about that maybe-not-really date thing?” he asked. Sure, he’d love to hear about how the bursar had probably raised his rent so high that you could have bought a small island, but he was emotionally invested in doing this right. 

“Oh yeah! Sorry, my hatred for the bursar just seems to be overflowing today,” Eliza laughed. God, he’d love to hear that sound over and over as he fell asleep. Was that creepy? Probably. “I’d love to go on that maybe-not-really date with you, Alex.” Yes! He had scored himself a date. All those times John had ribbed him about how he could never get any girls, he was wrong. He’d have to invite John to hang out with them one time, Alex was already sure he’d love Eliza. How could you not? 

Alex then realized he hadn’t responded. “Nice!” Oh my god he was so awkward, who the hell replied “nice” when a cute girl agreed to go on a date? Him, apparently. “Um, how does 5 next Wednesday work for you? We can go to that coffee shop next to Professor Washington.” She nodded, obviously agreeing. 

Finally getting over his euphoria, he noticed that he was absolutely freezing. “We should get out of the cold,” Eliza said. “Want to come back to my ridiculously expensive apartment to get some hot chocolate before you go? This can be our pre-date.” Holy shit, she had just winked at him. 

“S-sounds good!” he was ready for that hot chocolate. “Wait, can we take a selfie first? I have to show my asshole friend John that I do, in fact, have the ability to gain a date.” With a quick caption of “lmao asshole guess who’s got a date,” Alex and Eliza walked to her dorm. 

Alex had never been so happy in all his life. A cute girl had agreed to a date, and he was now going to get hot chocolate. Maybe he should try scouting out for lost books more often. Or maybe not, considering Eliza looked like someone he’d want in his life until he died (probably from a duel. Alex was so ready to fight that he’d revive the age-old practice of dueling just to fight someone). Maybe his luck was finally changing for the better. Now all he had to do was get John a date, maybe that cute french guy he saw in his world history class the other day...


	2. Alex/John: Marriage Prompt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: A pair of young people who have never met are arranged to be married. They run into each other while trying to avoid their official first meeting, but have no idea who the other is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> swiggity swooty gimme that booty  
> hi uhh. i havent updated in forever but please forgive me

The clock’s electrical interface is blinding. 12:07. Just seven minutes after midnight. Dear Lord, Alex is tired. He’s due to be married… well, today, since it’s technically the next day. His family’s falling out of power, no thanks to his father who almost everyone seems to fear. That same deadbeat father in question seems to think that marrying Alex off is the answer to their problems. Alex has asked before why  _ he’s  _ the one that has to get married, and not James, since James is the elder of the two. The only response he’s received is a curt “Go back to your room.” 

He’s been trying to fall asleep for hours, but can’t seem to just close his eyes and drift off into a world where he doesn’t have to get married to someone named  _ John _ (God, how boring of a name) today. Although, come to think of it, he shouldn’t throw stones in glass houses- considering his own name’s Alexander. He doesn’t even know who John is, only that he’s the son of another, more powerful ruler right next door. His father’s surely hoping that with the marriage, his own power will be given a much-needed boost. 

God, he knows he’s not going to be able to sleep tonight. So, he might as well sneak out and look at the stars- he’s always liked how the stars don’t care, they don’t give a fuck about power and they  _ especially  _ don’t care about him. It’s comforting, in a twisted way, to know that they won’t do anything to him. 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

He’s out there, after a brief but thrilling struggle with the window lock, and at his favorite spot for star-viewing. It’s on a tiny hill, and the stars are out tonight. Once he lies down, he can sit and try to relax (although he’ll probably end up making up arguments to destroy Jefferson in the next meeting anyway). Alex is trudging up the hill when he notices someone else in  _ his  _ spot, and is immediately irate. It’s just another thing to add onto the growing list of things that are stressing him out at the moment, and he finally snaps. 

“Why are you here in my spot? Who do you think you are to just  _ waltz  _ in, and sit your ass down in my space? One that I’ve specifically created for myself? Do you know how  _ rude  _ and  _ inconsiderate _ -” he’s cut off by the person standing up, and that’s when he realizes he might have fucked up. 

First off, the other person’s a lot taller than he is. Alex stands at a solid 5’6”, which isn’t that bad, but he’s about a head shorter than the other person. Second, he’s good in a fight but small and thin. He isn’t built for anything above streetfights. Meanwhile, Person #2 is a lot broader than he is, and seems to be the kind of person that actually  _ works out _ , as opposed to Alex’s 3 situps each morning. All things considered--if Alex gets into a fight with this man, he’s going to lose. The only logical thing to do was to back down, and so he did. “Hey, sorry, I was just venting a little, didn’t mean to be rude…” he laughed awkwardly. If he was killed that would put a damper on the wedding, most likely. 

Luckily, the other man seemed friendly. “It’s ok. A bit unexpected, to be sure, but it’s ok. So, what are you doing out here, angry short man? Who are you?” he says. 

Alex isn’t sure if he should tell the truth or not. The other guy seems friendly enough (and hot as hell), but if he does tell his name, will he get hurt? Alex is vaguely known here, and this man might end up kidnapping or hurting him if he finds out who Alex is. The only logical choice is to give him a fake name-- or at least not his full name. “Hi, I’m Alex. I’m out here on this night freezing my ass off because I’m due to get married tomorrow.” There. Concise and enough information to placate the stranger, but not enough to reveal anything. “And you are?”

“I’m John. Aren’t you supposed to be happy? You’re getting married tomorrow,” says John. 

“Actually, no, I’m not happy, thanks for asking. It’s a marriage of convenience, simply for my father to get a little extra cash and power. Coincidentally, you just happen to have the same name as the man I am being forced to wed,” Alex responds. 

“It’s got to be a coincidence. I mean, John’s an awfully boring and common name,” John says, and Alex can’t help but agree. Logically, this man is fairly nice and attractive. The connotations that come with the name John, however, are not to be taken lightly. He’s sworn to hate every man named John just on principle- however, Alex’ll make an exception for this man. 

“So, John, I’ve talked enough about myself. As much as I would love to keep blathering on about my miserable existence, what about you? Why are you out here on this lovely night?” Alex says. 

“Well, I’m not all that happy in my situation either. Seems we’ve got ourselves something in common besides our love of this hill,” John responds. Alex makes a questioning noise, and tilts his head. “I’d prefer not to go into it, but it’s almost as bad as yours.” As Alex snorts, he hears John say, “Don’t give me that, what do you know about my situation? Just chill yourself out and--Holy shit dude!” 

Alex jumps. Maybe someone came out and found him on this hill? If his father finds out, he’ll be absolutely dead. Maybe it’s an assassin, come to finally take him away unwillingly to his marriage? Maybe it’s--

“Yo, look! It’s a tortoise!” Oh, thank god. It’s not an assassin. It’s just a turtle. Wait. 

“Do you mean a turtle?” Alex says. 

“No, I mean a tortoise. This far from the water? It’s gotta be a tortoise. I mean, not that I don’t like turtles! Just this particular one is not a turtle. Hey, what do you think about turtles?” John responds. Alex doesn’t really have an opinion on them, they’re ok, he guesses. He feels like John would be disappointed in him if he said that ( _ and for some reason he doesn’t want to disappoint him) _ , so he just says--

“They’re pretty cool, I guess.” The most vague answer he could possibly give, good fucking job. Luckily, John doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Oh, good. Hey, you wanna see some drawings I did of the turtles?” John whips out a notebook and flips to a page. He can just barely make out some weird-ass looking turtles, and they’re surprisingly good. Still weird, but good. 

“Hey, that’s pretty good!” Alex says. John’s incredibly engaging and fun to talk to, and Alex can’t help but trust his impulsive ass. 

“Did you know that turtles are among some of the oldest creatures on this earth? Did you know that turtles sometimes pee from their mouths? Weird, right?” As John continues to supply Alex with weird turtle facts, he finds himself relaxing. Surprisingly, he enjoys not being the only one talking. He and John spend the rest of the night talking about random, light-hearted topics--nothing as heavy as Alex’s upcoming marriage. 

It’s dawn when Alex finally leaves and sneaks back to his room, tired but happy. His mood rapidly sinks when he remembers his marriage today. His father will put him through at least 3 hours of getting ready, which will not be good coupled with his lack of sleep. Grumbling, Alex makes his way to the breakfast table. 

It’s after 4 hours of prepping that he’s ushered to his place. Sitting in one of the side pews, he fidgets with his cufflinks (he can’t help but think that’s  _ the most _ pretentious thing he’s ever said) and waits for his future husband to walk towards him. Logically, he knows he looks fine. The stylists have done their best to wrestle his hair into a neat ponytail, and he’s wearing a decent-looking blue suit. However, he can’t help but think that he looks like a mess. Even though he’s not looking for approval from anyone, Alex hopes that his husband will find him at least presentable. 

The music plays, and his father grips his arm tightly to walk him down the aisle. “If you fuck this up for me, I’ll make your life miserable,” he hisses through his teeth. Alex keeps on his smiling face, and just keeps walking. Per tradition, the other person is hidden from his sight. Alex is hidden much the same way, with a veil of black draped over his face. 

Since his is the smaller kingdom, Alex is walked down the aisle second. His soon-to-be husband is already waiting at the altar, he prepares himself for the multiple years of misery to follow. Perhaps he can kill his husband and regain his freedom…he’s a decent actor, he could make it work--and his rather pleasant train of thought is interrupted by the officiant saying “You may now kiss”.  He panics.

Shit--he didn’t know that was expected, he thought it was just a marriage of convenience, that he would only have to go through the bare necessities. Alex quickly pulls the other man (his  _ husband _ ) into a kiss, just a quick touching of lips. Actually, he’s not even sure that their lips touched, it was so brief and passionless. The basics are over, now it’s time for the two families to party. His family will be celebrating, no doubt, over their increased wealth and power. The others will be partying over their son married off to a decent family, or at least what they think is a decent family. In truth, Alex’s dad is awful at business, squandering away most of their fortune. It’s part of why he’s been married. 

He steps into the washroom, and changes from his elaborate wedding getup into a simple blue suit. Nothing too complicated, and enough to let him blend in as a member of the crowd. Alex makes his way to the buffet table, and grabs whatever is within his reach to head outside as quickly as possible. The sheer amount of people in this room are enough to make him light-headed, so he heads for the veranda. It’s just chance that there happens to be another person, and that person happens to be the handsome stranger he met last night. 

“John! I wasn’t expecting to see you here!” Alex says, and he can’t help but be surprised. “Are you a friend of the Laurens family?” 

John laughs and throws his head back. “Something like that. I’ve been dragged into this by my father,” he grimaces. “He’s the worst. Rambling on about duty and all that nonsense.”

Alex responds, “Yeah, I know what you mean. My father’s the worst. He doesn’t even care about me, all he cares about is money and prestige.” Alex trades horror stories about his father with John, who retaliates with equally terrifying, if not more, stories. With each word that drops from John’s mouth, Alex can  _ feel _ himself falling hard. He’s always been free with his emotions, and love is no different. It’s probably not good to be falling in love with a stranger on his wedding day, but John’s funny, brash, and adventurous--all qualities that he admires. It’s the breath of fresh air that he needs on this day, and it’s late afternoon when he finally remembers that it’s his duty to head inside and “mingle” with the crowd. 

More pretentious bullshit that he doesn’t want to listen to is spewed from various mouths, and he responds with the practiced replies that he’s learned. Yes, his family is doing fine; yes, he’s doing fine; and that dress does look absolutely delightful, Linda. It’s mind-numbingly boring, and he longs for John to be by his side. John would no doubt be making snarky comments about just how terrible Linda’s dress is, and how that man over there has just tripped 4 times in succession. 

***

Midnight is when the party finally ends, people finally starting to trickle away back to whatever hellhole they came from. He’s exhausted, and all he wants to do is go to his room and sleep for as long as he possibly can. Sadly, it’s tradition to sleep (or at least stay in the same room) with one’s spouse. He’s got to put the stifling veil back on, hidden until he goes back to the room where he’ll supposedly “consummate” his new marriage. Alex will not be doing anything of that sort, and he just hopes his husband is understanding enough to at least allow him to sleep far, far away from each other. The veil is slipped back on, and he is escorted into a carriage and to his--no,  _ their _ room. 

It promises to be another awkward night of small talk, when he slips into the room late at night. Alex takes a quick shower, ties his hair back, and sits on the bed. His spouse was delayed by a short amount of time, which means that he has time to mentally prepare himself for what is to come. He’ll have to make small talk, such as “how was the weather” and “what’s your favorite color” for about an hour, minimum, before it becomes socially acceptable to beg exhaustion and sleep. Inexplicably, he wishes John were here. With the easy back-and-forth they have, Alex feels he would chat with him for hours. It’d be much easier to accept his fate of eternal wedlock if it were John here instead of some strange, uptight man. 

It’s 1:30 am when his husband shows up at the room. No doubt here to give some flimsy excuse about the coachman being terrible or whatever. Alex didn’t even  _ want _ to do this, but he’s still mad over how he had to wait 45 minutes for his spouse to even arrive. He bites out a greeting, “Thanks for being on time.” It’s rude, but Alex can’t find it in himself to care. Childishly, he has his back turned to whoever his spouse is--the less he has to look at him, the better. 

In response, he gets a laugh that sounds suspiciously like John’s and an apology. “Sorry, but I did pick up some candy on the way here.” Damn. He’s got a sweet tooth, and Alex wonders why this stranger with John’s voice knows that--they’ve never met before. 

“Hey, are you going to talk to me? If you don’t want to, it’s fine. We can just sleep now or whatever,” his husband says, and  _ jesus christ that sounds exactly like John _ . Alex finally turns around on the bed, and--Holy Shit.

John’s standing there with a grin. “So, you want that candy?” he says, and Alex chokes. How-? Was John here as a stand-in for his husband? What was happening? 

His mind is whirling with questions, and it’s all he can manage to stutter out “Wha-?” 

“Oh, right. Ok. You don’t know what’s going on here, do you?” John says, and he nods. “Alright, so. Um. I’m not sure what there is to say. I guess we’re married now?” 

Alex responds, “But how? I thought you were-you weren’t-you’re the son of the Laurens family?” 

“Yup. I’m John Laurens, eldest son of the Laurens family and your new husband.” Alex can’t believe this. His friend (and crush) was the man he had married? He wasn’t necessarily disappointed, this was much better than having to spend the rest of his life with a stranger, but it was quite a bit to take in. 

“Hey, you okay?” It’s then that he realizes he’s been staring blankly at John for a while. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a lot to take in, y’know?” John nods understandingly. “I mean, it’s great! We both know each other, and I’d be much happier with you than say, a 40 year old man. I mean, I like you a lot, but like, it’s in a friend way? I mean, I’d be totally down if it wasn’t in a friend way, because you’re hella ripped and also hot but no homo I guess? I don’t know man I’d be fine with whatever you want but uh I’m starting to talk a lot and-” 

“It’s fine. I think we should get to know each other a little first, but you seem like someone I’d be fine with spending my life with,” John says, and  _ wow _ was that a wink? Alex can feel his cheeks heating up. 

“Uh, that’s cool, that’s great, I’m down with that,” Alex stutters. He’s not used to being the tongue-tied one in the relationship, but he supposes he won’t mind too much. 

“Now, how about a re-do of that kiss?” John’s too smooth for his own good, Alex thinks, as they fall onto the bed. He definitely doesn’t mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the love of god please comment i will love you forever if u do;;  
> leave prompts!

**Author's Note:**

> So i'm taking prompts for various ships, comment whatever you guys want me to write! Your wish is my command lmao
> 
> I'll write pretty much anything except for rape/underage (if it's like;;one's 19 and the other's literally 3 months away from 18 i'll do it but nothing really lower than that)
> 
> and sex lmao i can't write smut to save my life, but i can try (just don't expect me to make a whole plot revolving around it)


End file.
